


In the morning, through the window shade

by secretlymisha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom!Cas, Dirty Talk, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Top!Sam, but in a sweet way, face fucking, i've been told this is fluff, if not happy then hopeful, it's mostly just phone sex though, mention of canon compliant death, not castiel's, or sam's, spoilers up through season 10 sneak peak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:50:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretlymisha/pseuds/secretlymisha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Seeing Sam’s name on the caller ID wakes Cas further. He’s tried to give his friend space to grieve Dean, but Cas has found he misses Sam more than he cares to admit. Still, he decides that’s all the more reason to not ask Sam to watch him slowly die; he can’t burden Sam with another death."</p><p>An exercise in phone sex that demanded it be book-ended by angst and hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the morning, through the window shade

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a few days after the end of Season 9, rather than a few weeks as Season 10 will. It makes more sense if you've seen the Season 10 iTunes teaser trailer, but that's not necessary.

Castiel isn’t truly asleep when his phone rings, but he isn’t far from it. He thinks of ignoring it, letting the warm sun lull him back into his dreams, but very few people have this number and any one of them would be calling with urgent information. Blinking the heaviness from his eyes, Cas arches his neck to seek out the phone. 

Seeing Sam’s name on the caller ID wakes Cas further. He’s tried to give his friend space to grieve Dean, but Cas has found he misses Sam more than he cares to admit. Still, he decides that’s all the more reason to not ask Sam to watch him slowly die; he can’t burden Sam with another death.

“Cas? Are you there?” 

Castiel startles at the sound, realizing he accepted the call but forget to speak.

“Yes.” His voice is rough still, more sound than words.

“Were you asleep? Sorry, I just-- You never...” Sam pauses, and in Cas’s drowsy mind he imagines the weight of the silence pushing him down into the bed. “Why didn’t you come home?” Sam asks finally, abandoning his initial accusation.

“I was just waking.” 

Castiel knows Sam is waiting for him to say more. He wants to tell Sam everything, but gets stuck after that answer. After that night -- Cas can’t put more specific words to it even in his own mind -- he had texted Sam to let him know he was safe and would be gone for some time. Anything about Dean or what was happening to Cas had felt too large for a text, but he didn’t want to force his clumsy sentiments on Sam any other way. 

Now Sam sounds upset that Cas didn’t return to him, and Cas isn’t sure what that means. 

“You should be here. Dean is gone. I can’t...” Sam’s voice breaks, and suddenly Cas hates this near-human body with all of its knee-jerk responses and slicing feelings.

“I know. Metatron showed me the blade.”

Sam’s laugh is a bitter push of air. “No, I mean he’s gone, Cas. He left. There was a note and I--” 

“How?” Cas interrupts. He knows Sam never fully recovered from the trials, and for a horrible moment Castiel wonders if the loss of his brother was enough to send Sam back to the hallucinations that haunted him after Cas broke his wall. 

The words rush out of Sam then, sounding half prayer and half denial. “I don’t know. But it was definitely in his handwriting. I’ve been searching nonstop for the last few days and I… Cas I think he might be possessed. I don’t know. I really need you here.” 

Castiel tries to process everything, but his mind is still sluggish and he’s not sure how to make sense of what Sam is telling him. “I wish things were that simple.”

“Simple? Nothing about this is simple. My brother was dead and now he’s not, or something might be wearing him and you’re, I don’t even know where you are. Where are you, Cas?” The last question is slower, softer, and an ache pulls at Castiel’s stomach and chest in a way he doesn’t fully understand but recognizes warily.

“You know I can’t tell you that over the phone, Sam.” It’s cowardly, but he doesn’t yet want to explain to the younger Winchester why he must stay away.

“Then come home,” Sam demands, and Cas thinks he hears some of that ache echoed in Sam’s voice. 

For a moment Castiel entertains the idea. But he knows better. 

“My grace is burning out. I’m not safe to be near. You should focus on Dean. I will try to find a way to help.” 

“You could help by being with me,” Sam spits back. The choice of words tugs so hard that for a moment, Cas finds himself unable to breathe. 

“I can’t.” It’s almost a whisper, but Sam’s reply is even quieter. 

“I miss you.” 

Castiel sucks in air, sliding his legs against the sheets as he feels something else entirely curl below the ache in his stomach. They’ve danced around something nameless for so long that Cas, angelic memory not at full power, doesn’t remember when it started. But hearing that confession feels like a cannon blast in the dam holding everything back, when before there had only ever been tiny cracks. 

“Sam, I--”

“Are you alone?”  


The question is sudden and urgent, and Castiel doesn’t understand at all. 

“Yes,” he answers immediately. “I’ve been alone since--” 

“What are you doing right now, Cas? Are you still in bed? What are you wearing?” Sam’s voice is nervous but firm. 

“Sam, I don’t understand.” 

He wants to give Sam what he’s seeking, but Castiel doesn’t know what that is.

The reply he gets is equal parts hesitant and desperate. “Just distract me, Cas. I miss you and everything is so--”

“I’m still in bed. I’m wearing a robe.” Castiel looks down at himself. “A bathrobe. It’s very soft,” he supplies, afraid to hear Sam articulate what everything is right now. He knows too well. Through the line, Cas hears the soft thump and squeak of Sam sitting on his bed. 

“Anything under it?” Sam asks, and it’s almost a joke. Cas hears the breathy tone and finally understands what sort of distraction Sam seeks, but he also sees that Sam is giving him an out if he wants to take it. 

He finds he does not. 

“No. Just… my skin.” 

He hopes that is suitable. Cas never learned about phone sex beyond understanding that it exists, and even the forced cultural knowledge in his head is falling short on this task. He wonders if perhaps Metatron gave him a censored education, and then pushes the thought away quickly.

“Good. I’m going to lie down on my bed.” There’s a pause, and then Sam seems to come to a decision. “I wish you were here with me, Cas. In my bed with me.” Sam’s breathing becomes more audible, and Cas can hear the rustling as he lies down. 

“I wish for that too,” Castiel confesses, completely honest. Fading grace aside, he knows he would find comfort with Sam beside him. 

He listens to Sam sigh. 

“What would you do to me if you were here?” The hesitancy is gone from Sam’s voice now, replaced by the lower pitch that Cas recognizes as a sign of Sam’s arousal. 

Castiel’s own uncertainty has not yet been abated, though he is sure he wants whatever is being offered. Sam doesn't rush him.

“I would like to touch you,” he eventually manages.

Sam continues to shift, and Cas realizes with a flash of heat that Sam is taking his clothes off. “What are you wearing?” Cas asks before Sam can respond to his first stumbling attempt. 

“Just my boxers now,” Sam tells him. Cas has been with the Winchesters long enough to know Sam only wears boxer briefs, but he doesn't bother to correct him. 

“Open your robe for me, Cas. Spread your legs and open your robe.” 

Cas complies, looking down at his bare legs and growing erection. He wants to touch himself, but more than that he wants Sam to tell him to first. 

“Okay.” 

“What do you see? Tell me what you look like.”

Castiel can do this. He looks at himself and tries to find the words for what he needs Sam to know. 

“My legs are open, spread. Like you told me. The sheets are pushed down and sunlight is coming through the windows and I can see my… my cock becoming hard for you. Because of your words, and because I am thinking of you.” 

Sam groans softly, and Cas’s cock twitches in response.

“I want you to touch yourself for me, Cas. Can you do that please?” 

Castiel reaches down immediately, cradling the phone against his left ear and wrapping his right hand around himself. He’s fully hard now, and sucks in breath at the contact.

“Yes, Sam. I wish that it were you touching me instead.” The words slip out before Cas can think to stop them.

“Me too. It will be. Soon, Cas.” He knows the words are just part of the fantasy, but they soothe him nonetheless. 

“I would like to kiss you. If I were with you, that's what I would do,” Cas says, picking up where he left off before. He is still unsure in his words, but knowing that Sam craves this as well emboldens him. 

“Yeah, I want that too. I want to feel your mouth.” Sam’s breathing quickens, though Cas thinks his own admission was fairly tame. 

“Are you touching yourself?” Castiel finds he needs to know. He needs to know exactly how, and Sam does not disappoint. 

“Yes. I’m moving my hand up and down my shaft, Cas. I’m going slow and I’m thinking about what it would feel like to have your hand on me instead.” 

Cas bites his bottom lip, arching his back a little as he tries to imagine how different Sam’s cock would feel from his own. “I’ve never touched… I’ve never been with a man,” Cas admits, although he knows Sam has at least guessed this already.

“I know, Cas. I’m going to show you everything. I’m going to tell you how to hold tight while you slide your hand up and then to loosen your grip while you twist your palm gently over the head of my cock before pumping back down to the base.” 

Cas moans openly, replicating Sam’s instructing on his own aching length.

“I’m going to tell you when to go fast and when to slow down to keep me right on the edge. I know you’re on the edge already, aren’t you? Circle your fingers around your base and squeeze for me, okay? I just want you to hold off a little longer so I can finish with you. Touch yourself when you think you can, but don’t come yet.” 

“Yes, Sam,” is all Cas manages to choke out, but Sam seems more than happy to continue to carry the conversation on his own.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, Cas. I’m going to put you on your knees and hold your head and slide my cock over those perfect lips. I know you’re gonna be so good for me, too. Aren’t you?”

Cas tries to agree, but all that comes out is a sharp noise of pleasure. Sam is apparently satisfied, though. 

“I wouldn’t be rough with you, not at first. Not unless you wanted. I’d show you just how to take me. But you’d want more, wouldn’t you? I know you’d want me to really work my cock in and out until I came in that hot, wet mouth for you.” 

“Sam, please.” Cas has never been this aroused for this long, even in those first fumbling days when he was just learning how to sate his urges. He suspects that it hasn’t been that long, objectively, but he is still relatively new to so much of this. 

“Not yet. Hold on for me. I want to tell you everything.” Sam is breathing hard now too, but Castiel will give him anything he asks. 

“Sam. I want you. I want you.” The words pour from Cas, and he’s much too far gone to second guess himself.

“I want you too, Cas. I want you hard and leaking with my taste on your tongue. I want to pull you onto the bed and spread you out for me, just like you’re spread out for me now. I’m going to work you open while I suck your cock, Cas. I’m going to swallow you down while I get you so slick and open for me.”

Cas is panting Sam’s name now, over and over, and he feels it pierce through his being like its own kind of grace, soothing him and igniting him all at once. 

“When you’re ready for me and just on the edge I’m going to slide into you. I’m going to wrap your legs around me and push my cock into you.” 

Cas can hear how close Sam is now. He starts stroking himself with purpose again, still repeating Sam’s name like a mantra. 

“I’m going to take you, Cas. I’m going to, fuck, I’m going to bury myself in you.” 

“Please, Sam. Please,” is all Cas can manage, and if he doesn't come soon he doesn't think his body will ever recover. 

“You’re going to come just like that, aren't you, Cas? Untouched, your cock between us while I fuck into you as hard and as deep as you want?”

“Yes, Sam. Yes, yes, yes.” And Cas is positively writhing now, body twisting on the bed while his hand moves at a desperate speed.

“Come for me, Cas. I’m going to fill you up. I’m going to…” Sam groans loudly, but Cas feels too drunk on the sound to mind the burst of noise.

“I’m going to come in you, Cas. Come for me now.” 

And Castiel does. 

Tension and pleasure shoot through his body, and Cas knows in a distant sort of way that he’s far too loud for the thin hotel walls, but nothing in him is present enough care. Instead he keeps moaning, his stuttering hips leaving the bed while warm, wet liquid coats his stomach and fingers. 

As he starts to drift back to awareness, Cas can hear Sam coming down from his own orgasm, the last few gasps and groans working their way out of him. Cas wonders if Sam moaned his name. He thinks he must have said Sam’s a hundred times, but he’s not sure what he was saying during his climax. His first truly coherent thought is that he’d like to have a clear head next time he hears Sam come. Or at least not be so overwhelmed with the force of his own finishing. 

“Cas,” Sam whispers, and there’s reverence where Castiel was afraid he would hear regret. “Please come home.” 

Castiel is jolted back to reality, and briefly resents Sam for reminding him of their situation, as unfair as he knows that is. “Sam, I--” 

“I don’t mean for sex. Well,” Sam chuckles softly, “I wouldn’t say no to that.” 

His voice returns to its serious tone of before. “But I need you here. We’ll figure out your grace, we’ll find Dean, we’ll make everything better. But we've got to do it together. Please be here with me.”

And Cas finds that, as before, he will give Sam anything he asks. 

“Sam,” he starts, and his heart skips. But he is certain, for the first time in so long, that this is the right decision.

“I’ll come home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Casimir Pulaski Day' by Sufjan Stevens. Thank you for reading!


End file.
